


The art of breathing

by nightsun666



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-19 08:54:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29996922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightsun666/pseuds/nightsun666
Summary: no summary, fic is short enough ;-)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	The art of breathing

**Author's Note:**

> Just a short "jenesaisquoi" Mac Whump

He remembered running but he couldn’t remember why?  
He remembered a burning sensation in his right side but wasn`t sure what it was.  
Distant noises filtered through his ears but his brain couldn’t identify them- not loud but loud enough to keep him from sleeping.  
He was so tired, he just wanted to curl up and pull a blanket over his head but yet again, he couldn’t move.  
This was odd. He tried real hard to open his eyes or to move an arm, a leg, something, but his body wouldn´t obey him.  
He started to panic. The sounds and noises became louder and faster. Still he couldn´t make them out.  
But someone else was there, too. He concentrated and felt touching and prodding all over his body now. The sting in his side intensified, grew fiercer, screaming for his attention.  
And someone else was screaming for his attention, too. “MAC…Mac c’mon buddy stay with me…”  
He felt more and more by the minute until pain exploded in his side. He tried to pull away from it, get up and away from that pain.  
He tried to breathe in and scream the pain away but the airflow was blocked.  
“…collapsing…”a female voice shouted.  
His lungs wouldn’t welcome his attempt and instead threatened to choke him with his own blood.  
His eyes flew open, his back arched.  
There was bright light rushing by above him and there were people around him, talking to him, shouting to one another, reaching over him and toughing him, holding him down while moving. He couldn´t focus, couldn´t concentrate on what was happening around him.  
He couldn`t breathe, he was choking, he needed to breathe- desperately.  
Something cold and hard was pressed onto his face covering his nose and mouth. Air was forced into him but to no avail.  
From the corner of his eye he saw a syringe being drawn with a transparent liquid, pulled up to push out the air, then the syringe disappeared out of view.  
He felt the jab in the crook of his arm, something cool flowing through his veins and his eyelids felt heavy. He tried to keep his eyes open but the pull of whatever they injected was stronger. The pain felt farther away now and his will to stay awake diminished.  
The plastic was lifted from his face. His chin was gently pulled up and his head tilted back. His head was held in place, his mouth was gently pried open while his surrounding grew more and more fuzzy.  
He closed his eyes.

Then he just slipped away into sweet oblivion


End file.
